Ghost
by Naishu
Summary: A visit from the ghost of one of his victims helps Damon come to terms with his feelings for Elena. What happens when she overhears his confessions? Set after 2x19, Delena.


**AN: I was watching a ghost story, and thought this would be a nice way to approach a one-shot. It's definitely staying a one-shot as I can't bring myself to write Delena's anymore...it's too cruel to Damon.**

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><p>Damon stared into the fireplace, Andie's blood still on his tongue. He knew that he shouldn't have bitten her, but he didn't care. There were so many things on his mind...it was like it was splitting down the center. Good, <em>responsible<em> Damon was on one side, and on the other was impulsive, impatient, and dangerous Damon. His chest had been wound tighter than an aircraft cable for the last few hours, and he couldn't get past the sinking feeling that he couldn't save Elena. The confrontation with Stefan had made him enraged, then distraught, and now he didn't know what he felt other than this undying stress. Stefan was wrong about one thing; he had her respect. It wasn't the same loving respect that Stefan received from her, but it was an innate respect that came from knowing that he would protect her.

Damon tilted his head back, a pounding headache roaming through his brain. He had to save her. Why? He didn't know. Because he loved her? Because she was Elena? Because maybe if he saved her enough times she'd choose him. He laughed sardonically at his scenario. It was Katherine all over again, but this time Katherine was fair, smart, sweet, and caring. Elena was everything that he thought Katherine had been, and more. Everything except his...and right now he was so close to losing her that having his love returned didn't matter; he just wanted her to live.

"Tough, feeling things. Wish I still could..."

Damon jerked around to find the source of the voice, but he had no idea where it was coming from. He should have heard a person enter the room, but as he looked, there was no one. He'd heard the voice before, but where?

"In love with your brother's girl...tough break."

He jerked again, still not seeing anything.

"Up here."

He looked up, and his eyes widened at what he was seeing. "What the..." The figure of a woman hung above him, perched lightly on the mantle of the fireplace. She was clothed in a poodle skirt and ruffled blouse, and she was airy, as though he could blow and she'd disappear. He knew who she was...he'd killed her.

"Funny what your mind does when you're stressed." She said. "Let me guess: you killed me." She said. "I know. I'm a ghost."

"I don't have time for shit like this." He muttered. Now he was seeing ghosts, great. Did psych problems even affect vampires? Was it even possible for stress to do this to him?

She laughed and twirled a piece of black hair around her finger, frowning as it disintegrated into ash. "I didn't have time to be dead, but I am." She said.

Damon looked up incredulously. "Why are you here?" he sneered, annoyed.

"Because you're starting to feel your humanity, and you feel very, very bad about me." She said matter-of-factly. She crossed her arms and floated down, her face an inch from his.

"Don't think so." He did. He'd remembered her right away, even though it had been nearly 60 years. He didn't have time for this, there was too much to think about. "You need to leave." He said, and he ran a hand through her airy form, turning it into smoke. The smoke rose and disappeared, and he sighed. Enough.

"Not so easy." She was behind him!

"What do you want? Yes, I killed you. Sure, I feel bad, but no, I can't do anything about it!" he snarled.

She floated back in front of him and smiled. "I'm not here about my death." She said. "I'm here about _Elena_."

"What? That's impossible." He said.

"It's not. Your mind is playing tricks on you, and you were lucky enough to see me." She said. "Now, why haven't you gotten Elena yet?" she questioned, rolling over lazily in front of him.

"She's with my brother."

"So? Has it stopped you before?" She asked, floating towards the ceiling.

"No, but this is different." He said.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do." She said.

"No. I don't." It was what was annoying him. Why didn't he just tear the necklace off of Elena and make her forget Stefan?

"Why haven't you just torn her necklace off and made her forget Stefan?" The woman chimed.

"What the?"

"I'm part of your mind, remember?" she cooed. "So, why haven't you?"

"I don't know!" He'd be sick with himself if he did it...he couldn't imagine doing something like that to Elena.

"Why would you be sick with yourself?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" he roared. "Stop questioning me!" he snapped.

"You're not very good at this question thing." She said. "You haven't answered a single one." She floated down, in front of his face. "What is stopping her from loving you, Damon?" Her eyes were accusing and harsh.

"What do you want from me?" he exploded. He didn't want to think about these things, and he was losing it.

"The truth." It said.

"She's perfect! She's kind and loving , caring and fair, smart and fearless. She's perfect, and..." his voice broke, and he looked down.

"and what?"

"...and I'm not. I'm the exact opposite of her." His voice dropped. "I'm impatient and careless. I take everything and don't know how to give back, and I'm the last person you could call reliable."

"So?"

"So she'll never want me." He said. "I'm the reject fixer-upper house at the end of the block, the end that no one goes to."

"What about Andie?" the woman asked. "She cares about you."

"She's _compelled_ to care about me." He said. "She's not Elena." No matter how many times he tried to pretend that she was.

The woman rested her airy chin on his shoulder, staring into the fire with him. "Let's go back to the beginning. Tell me everything that comes to mind when I ask this" she spoke slowly. "Why haven't you compelled her to love you?"

Damon sat for a moment, gathering exactly what he was feeling. "Because I want it to be real." He said. "Everything that I thought I knew about love, I learned from Katherine. Jealousy, competition, defeat. Elena has taught me that everything I thought was wrong. Love isn't about impressing her or being witty or even being smart, it's about being stupid enough to trust someone not to break you. It's willing to do anything to make that person survive." He said.

"Just survive, or be happy?" she asked, floating through him and materializing in front of the fire.

"Survival is happiness." How could anyone not want to survive?

"Are you happy?"

"This isn't about me." He said.

"Are you happy?" She replied quietly, facing him. Her eyes were unbelievably piercing for someone who was made of air and smoke.

He sat for a moment and considered the question. "No."

"But you're surviving. What if survival and happiness are two different things to Elena?"

"It isn't possible." He said. "Why would she agree to be protected if she didn't want to survive?"

The woman laughed. "When has she ever really agreed, Damon? You and Stefan make choices for her, she's only drawn along on the current."

"Don't start with me!" he said. "She doesn't know any better! She doesn't know that life can be better than it is now!"

"Can it be?"

"You need to stop with the bullshit questioning!" he said.

"Can it be?" she repeated in the same calm tone.

"Yes! If she wasn't with someone who didn't care enough to give her _every_ option!" It was something Stefan wouldn't do. "If she was with someone who was willing to do _everything_ necessary, life would be better! If we would have killed those who knew about her, we wouldn't be in this mess with Klaus! If-!"

"Does she want those things?" the voice interrupted.

The question stopped him. Did she? He didn't know. He did know. She didn't want them. She didn't want people to die because she was fair and loving. She didn't want to be hidden because she didn't run from her problems, and she didn't want him because he was the epitome of what she didn't want. "She doesn't." He said. The headache was back, and he rested his head against the bed and shuddered. "I've made her hate me because I didn't stop to ask what she wanted, what she _needed_. She never wanted me to be anyone else, she wanted me to understand _why_. Just _why_, but I wouldn't listen."

He took a pause and continued. "I love her so much." He said. "I love her so much that sometimes I can feel it hurt. I love her so much that I can _feel_. There's a part of me that would give anything to just hold her, and that part is destroyed by the me that does anything to keep her alive. I don't deserve her...I know." He said. It was the second time he'd ever said those words, and they hurt just as much this time around. He could feel a tear in the corner of his eye. "I love her enough to let her go...enough to leave."

He heard a whoosh and lifted his head to see what the woman was doing, but she was gone. In the doorway, not five feet from him, stood Elena. He stood quickly, pulling himself together as much as he could. She wasn't pulled together at all. There were tears in her eyes, and he could hear her lightly sob. Her eyes met his and she caught her breath, not sure of what to say.

"How long were you there?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"Long enough." She choked out. Damon sighed and stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak. Elena held up her hand, shaking lightly.

"Don't leave." She said. She looked up at his large frame, into his torrential blue eyes. She placed a hand on his chest. "Don't ever let me go."

Damon looked at her in shock. He didn't know what to do. Every cell in his body wanted to wrap his arms around her and make her tears stop flowing, but doing so would be selfish. She was with Stefan, she wasn't his to comfort.

"After this is done, I'm going to leave." He said quietly.

Elena's eyes widened in shock. "What?" she asked.

"For you to be happy, I can't be here." He said. "I know that you love Stefan, and me being here stops you from that happiness."

"Damon I-!"

"Elena, it's for you." Tears were fighting behind his eyes, but he worked his hardest to hold them back. He raised a hand to her cheek and brushed her tears away with his thumb. "Maybe in another lifetime." He said with a low chuckle. He doubted it, but anything to make her happy.

"This lifetime." She said.

"But you have St-!"

"No." She said. Stefan had never described love in that way. She'd asked him numerous times, but he always gave the same answer. Commitment. Love was about choosing one person for life. To Damon, love was something completely different, and completely beautiful. "Damon, I...I can't promise that it'll be right away, but I want to give you that chance" her tears streamed faster as she spoke. "If you meant everything that you just said, I want to know where we could go."

Damon couldn't hold back anymore and he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and letting her head settle into the curve of his shoulder. "I meant every word." He said quietly. He could hear her heartbeat, but he wasn't thinking of her blood, he was thinking of how happy he was that it was still beating. She looked up at him, her beautiful dark eyes framed with tears.

"Show me."


End file.
